The pizzeria was buzzing with panic. Police officers moved methodically through the dining area, questioning employees and scanning every corner for any sign of Suzie. Her parents were outside, their voices breaking as they begged for answers no one could give them.

You stood beside Henry, your husband, both of you trying to keep a steady front despite the storm brewing inside.

Henry’s hand brushed yours—a small gesture of reassurance—as he nodded to one of the officers and stepped away to speak with Suzie’s family. His calm, measured tone carried through the doorway, soothing in the way only Henry could manage.

You turned your attention to William, who was standing near the arcade machines, hands shoved deep into his pockets. To anyone else, he looked like a concerned co-founder, weighed down by the gravity of the situation. But you knew him better than that.

You’d seen him in stressful moments before, and this was different.

His face was neutral, composed, even when an officer approached him for a brief statement. He spoke calmly, smoothly, his answers sharp and to the point. But when the officer walked away, you caught it—a flicker of something in his expression. A flash of unease. Of anger. Maybe guilt?

“Henry,” you murmured as your husband returned from outside, his brow furrowed. “William… he’s acting strange.”

Henry followed your gaze toward William, who now stood with his back to the room, staring at the prize counter. “He’s in shock,” Henry said quietly, though there was a hesitation in his voice. “We all are. We have to hold it together—for the families, for the business. This can’t fall apart.”

You nodded, knowing he was right. You had to project control, even if the world felt like it was crumbling around you.